Posts Tagged ‘farm’

Mother Hen has just realized that there are 10 more days until the big jolly fat guy gets stuck trying to get in the coop door! (No, she does not mean Father Rooster – she can hear you snickering out there people!)

Next to Easter, this is the busiest time of the year for the BUDS (Bunnies United Delivery Service) and boy, do they get cranky about now! If you have never tried to ship a package with a disgruntled rabbit, folks, it can get pretty ugly. Most of the farm animals keep a few carrots around for tipping, but everyone knows bunnies prefer chocolate.

Mother Hen has made her list and is checking it twice.

Father Rooster Alarm Clock

Missy Hen Feather Fluffer

Junior Rooster Hungry, Hungry Hoggies game

Great-Aunt Henrietta Feather Duster

Farmer Brown Bottle of Corn Liquor

Mrs. Farmer Brown Eau de Niblets Cologne

Santa Claws Milk from Mrs. Bossie and popcorn

For those of you who are asking the burning question, “What do chickens put out for Santa instead of stockings?” Mother Hen has a simple answer. Rubber boots, of course! What do you think we wear when the farmyard gets mucky? (And believe MH, after the cow and the horse and the pig family have been out there, a chicken could use a pair of hip-waders, if you know what Mother means!)

If Mother Hen doesn’t get time to peck the keyboard again during this holiday season, which seems likely, she would like to wish all her loyal chicks, people and other assorted animal readers a blessed and merry Christmas, and all the best for the coming year!

Mother Hen needed a few days to recover from the…ahem…excitement of Cousin Lavinia’s wedding reception before she could report back to her loyal readers, whom she is certain have been waiting breathlessly for her account of the festivities.

The bride wore white, which Mother Hen found very reassuring despite the fact that Lavinia and Harry’s three-week-old rooster, Ziggy, was the ringbearer. In MH’s day, which becomes a progressively faint memory after one of these events, white meant something other than it complimented your feathers, if you know what Mother H. means, and she’s sure you do!

Anyway, Ziggy dropped the pillow with the rings about a half-dozen times (coordination does not run in Harry’s side of the family) and predictably Harry dropped the ring, but only twice. Mother Hen thought at the rate things were going it would become a winter wedding, but everyone made it through in the end.

A fall wedding means corn chowder and pumpkin pie for dinner, and Lavinia did not disappoint. Oh, and there were pumpkins everywhere! Pumpkins on the altar at the chapel, pumpkins holding open the doors, pumpkin-themed table decorations, and even pumpkin-shaped nametags which M H thought was a bit much. After all, everyone knows who Mother Hen is, and those sticky things tend to pull on the feathers.

Naturally Mother H. was up there grooving on the dance floor like it was 1999, and she showed those young folks how the chicken dance is really done! Father Rooster joined her for a rip-roaring polka, which of course had all the young’uns hollering for more. Still, dancing all night is best left to the chicklets, although if you ask Mother Hen, there was more than a little fermented corn syrup fueling the festivities as well!

Well, Mother’s claws and head are still a bit tender from whooping it up on Saturday, so she will bid all her good bloggy friends adieu. She wishes the new Mr. and Mrs. Harry Feathers all the best in their life together, and little Ziggy too!

Postscript:Postscript: This is Mother Hen’s close friend, Jodi. Springbank Park in London is home to what seems like a million geese in the summer. There is a merry-go-round in the park but to the best of our knowledge it is not operated by anyone named Merry.

Mother Hen has always maintained that the only intelligent way for a chicken to cross the road is in a truck, as God intended. Therefore when Farmer Brown decided to take Mother Hen to the Squawkalot County Fair, he did the sensible thing and did not ask her to walk. She traveled quite comfortably in a crate in the back of his pick-up, thank you very much.

All the other animals at the farm wanted to hear about what MH experienced, so she typed up the following notes.

Day 1

Settled nicely into straw at the bottom of crate. Pick-up is much more bumpy than it looks. Almost lost breakfast.

Fair is NOISY! Machines everywhere, spinning and tumbling and twisting enough to make you dizzy. Some make grinding sounds, others whir and all of them scream! True — every last one shrieks like Mrs. Farmer Brown that time she saw harmless little garter snake.

So many people feet! Shoes that walked and garbage and gum and popcorn that MH could not reach, right in front of beak. Crate loaded onto metal platform with wheels, and went to Fair Barn. Little bit quieter here. Smells like farm.

Day 2

Bad night with hens cackling in sleep and pig on left snores. Friendly sheep on rope said there are prizes for best animals. Mother Hen hopes best chicken gets a 60” flatscreen as she could use new TV. Corn is okay here but no cola for MH. Guess Farmer B doesn’t want her to belch at judges.

Wait for judges. Wait some more for judges. See judges at snoring pig’s pen so preen. Wrong judges. Snooze while waiting for judges. Wake up to see red ribbon on crate!!! Can’t wait to see prize.

Hay, it says Biggest Chicken, 1st Prize! Not prettiest, or fanciest or best typist but Biggest! Must mean fluffiest in people-speak.

Hog next door has white ribbon. Ha, bet red is better than white!

Still haven’t seen prize. Must be saving it for home time.

Day 3

Back on rolling platform. Oh good, going for ride to see the sights!

No sights. No people. Still lots and lots of wrappers and sticky sticks and, hey, a cola can. Stop!

As everyone knows, Mother Hen is not only the world’s foremost typing chicken, she is also a style icon among the poultry set. MH prides herself on staying abreast of the most recent couture for hens, so imagine how thrilled she was to discover HenSaver, which bills (yes, ducks can wear them too!) itself as “The Leader in Chicken Saddles.”

Don’t let the name fool you now: while the Chicken Saddle does have some practical applications, it is also known as a Hen Apron, and comes in variety of styles, sizes and colors! There is a particularly fetching camouflage version which should be all the rage among well-dressed roosters this season.

For those of you ladies who need a bit more support (you know who you are!) there is the Birdy Bra, a type of Crop Bra/Chest Protector that lifts (but does not separate). The Birdy Bra can guard against pecking as well, assists with certain chicken digestive conditions, and comes in four fashionable shades. There is even a Sherpa lining available, darlings! Again, roosters and other fowl will love them too. If you are one of those poor unfortunates at the bottom of the pecking order, this little number will give your social status (as well as your breast) a little boost.

Now, on a more sensitive note, for chickens and roosters with…ahem…incontinence problems, and indoor pet chickens (imagine!), there is the Hen Holster, which is an attractive combined harness/diaper combo. No one will ever know that you are sporting that fetching little red bandana in case of oopsies!

There is even a sporty little add-on with owl-eye circles for the chicken who prefers a casual look.

When you see a gorgeous chick strutting around in a HenSaver ensemble, remember that you saw it here at Mother Hen’s Nest first! Toodle-oo, chickies!

This is an unsolicited endorsement by Mother Hen. Product may not be exactly as illustrated.

When one is faced with delivering an ultimatum, it is wise to stay, shall we say, out of harm’s way.

Being no dummy, then, MH chose to go out on a limb both literally and metaphorically when the tyrant Farmer Brown, rather than negotiate in good faith with the farm’s striking animals, chose instead to play hardball. As the representative of the combined Chickens & Roosters of the World (CROW) and United Animal Workers (UAW) unions, Mother Hen was charged with delivering the bad news.

“What are ya doin’ up there, Mama Hen?”

“Shhh, Junior! Your mother is trying to be important.”

“Let us never forget that we are comrades united in a noble struggle to assert the dignity of domesticated creatures. We shall not be divided! No matter what comes, we shall never, ever allow management to turn animal against animal, cows against pigs or pigs against poultry. Especially not cows or pigs against poultry.”